The Infection :Resurection:
by ThemSoundWaves
Summary: One problem the Autobots think they can fix, They get Viruses all the time what's different when a human gets one?The difference?Their viruses don't raise the dead. (M for swearing and mega violence after 2007)
1. Chapter 1

**The Infection**

**By ThemSoundWaves**

**A/N: Hey peeps! I just finished watching World War Z and it inspired me, what would happen if the Transformers world where the humans were infected by the Zombies virus? So, this is a plot bunny depending on how many people review I will continue. But reviews aren't important as long as people like my work, I'll be fine, Enjoy! A big thanks to Storylady for editing my chapters for me! **

Chapter 1

* * *

"_I'd rather die while I'm living than live while I'm dead_. "

― Jimmy Buffett

* * *

Silent.

Just how Dr. Radar Johnson liked to work. Alone in his lab, surrounded by his work, bright white walls and blinding white lights. Completely ignored by the outside world, ignored by his fellow workers who also shared the compound with him.

Dr. Johnson tinkered with a small petri dish that sat perfectly on the grey table. Vaccine 12 he called it. Bright purple in color, it smelt pretty bad, but that's what the mask was for.

He was working on a cure. A cure for cancer. He was determined, persistent; he wouldn't stop until the cure was found. By him, of course. It would secure his fame forever, to be loved by all because he found the one thing that everyone said could not be cured. To cure the impossible.

Dr. Radar Johnson had cancer. He was his own test subject. Many people around him believed him insane for injecting numerous numbers of untested samples into his body. But he really didn't care.

He heard the click of his door and the hiss of the door sliding open. Thoroughly annoyed, the scientist turned to his visitor.

"What do you need, Shelby?"

Standing before him, was one of Dr. Johnson's only friends within the building. Wearing a light white Lab coat and her hair in a bun, Shelby walked over to her friend and placed her hand around his shoulder.

"Just wanted to check up on you, is all."

Radar shrugged the woman's hand from his shoulder and turned back, leaning down over his work, dropping a few droplets of vaccine 14 into vaccine 12. The red headed scientist allowed a smirk to come to his face but it was there for only a few seconds, until the bright purple liquid turned into a deep, ugly brown.

"That looks awful." Shelby stated, looking away from the test tube.

"Aye." Radar responded, slapping his gloves on then turning away from his friend, rummaging with sturdy hands through a drawer and pulling forth a clean needle and popping it into place.

Ignoring his friend who just stared and watched him work, Dr. Johnson set the needle inside the test tube, taking a breath before setting it to his arm.

"If you die I call your lab space." Shelby said smiling, Johnson just shook his head.

"Please, I'll never die."

And with that, the scientist injected the brown liquid into his arm.

Nothing happened.

Well, he wouldn't have expected to feel anything different. So, being stubborn, Johnson proceeded to inject more into his systems.

"Stop that, too much could kill you."

"Please." Johnson shot back. He attempted to step forward, only to stop. Was it working? Something was happening. something. different.

His vision blurred. He felt. hungry. Something was happening. A side effect?

His name was Dr. Radar Johnson. Twenty six years old. Born and raised within a wealthy family. Since he was a boy, he wanted to grow up to become a well-known scientist, creating cures for the deadliest diseases. Eventually he grew up to be number one in all his science classes enrolling in. hungry. _Hungry_. Where was the food?

His name was Dr. Radar Johnson. Twenty six years old. Born and raised within a wealthy family. Since he was a boy, he wanted to grow up to become a well-known scientist, creating cures for the deadliest diseases. Starved. Alone. His mind began to crumble. He craved.

His name was Dr. Radar Johnson. Twenty six years old. Born and raised within a wealthy family.

Where was he? Why was everything so bright? Empty, empty, hungry, starved. Who was that person talking? Why was it so hard to hear them?

His name was Dr. Radar Johnson. Twenty six years old.

His name.

Something was touching his shoulder.

Hungry. Hungry! Something was behind him. Something that smelt wonderful. Soooo hungry. Where was he? Who was he?

Slowly, he turned around, an inhuman snarl escaping his lips.

Yes. yes. Hungry! Food! Hungry!

~#~

She watched, waited as her friend seemed to freeze.

His normal army posture slowly deflated.

His shoulders slumped.

His breathing picked up.

Shelby was becoming more and more worried each second that ticked by. Was something wrong? Was he sick? Was it a bad reaction?

"Radar, is everything okay?"

She couldn't help her voice as it shook. Slowly, she set a hand on her friend's shoulder. Confused. Usually she felt mussel but not this time. Had he been skipping out on eating again?

"Radar?"

The man turned around and Shelby was forced to take a step back.

His eyes were white, as if the bright white of the room had blinded him. His pupils were glazed over.

Taking another step back, Shelby said worriedly. "R-Radar?"

A snarl, did he just. snarl at her?

"This isn't funny, Radar!"

He didn't hear her. He made no notion showing that he had understood her.

"I'm going to get help." She stated turning around, Shelby looked over her shoulder, he was still standing there. Swaying slightly, his fingers clenching and unclenching into fists. She opened the door and stepped forward.

And froze halfway out the door.

Radar was snarling, screaming inhumanly at her. _What, what the?_ Petrified, Shelby took off at a run down the white hallways, the loud snickering and panting from behind her told her that Radar was following.

He was fast. Inhumanly so. He caught up to the woman with no problem, after crashing his uncontrolled body into a wall, the now dead Radar flung himself into the air.

Shelby screamed.

_"Please, I'll never die."_

* * *

Bumblebee was needed back at NEST, again, leaving Sam Witwicky to either hitch a ride from Mikaela who was visiting at that time. On second thought, scratch that; she was back at his dorm room, like she said she would be. He could walk home or he could get a ride from one of the Autobots. Maybe Jazz would give him a ride?

He found himself spending a lot of his time at the base with Jazz. Since the saboteurs 'resurrection' he derided to spend some time with the mech. He was fun to hang out with but not a force to reckon with.

Sighing, Sam decided to walk. He wasn't too far from his dorm but it always helped to have 'Bee drop him off. Saved his legs from hurting later.

Was that, _screaming?_

Stopping dead in his track, the alien's liaison turned slowly, listening. It was screaming. Why was someone screaming?

His breathing picked up. Was it Deceptions? Where they looking for him again?

Suddenly terrified, Sam Witwicky fumbled his hand into his coat pocket, cursing his gaming hands. He hit speed dial and set the phone to his ear.

Gun shots. More screaming.

What. what was going on!

"_Hello? Sam? What's up?"_

No. It couldn't be.

The hold on the phone loosened until it dropped to the floor with a clattering sound. Everything slowed.

In front of him was a slaughter house. When did all these cops get here? _What was_ _going on!_

Then he saw it.

A lone girl running for her life. To no avail as another human, running at insane speeds leapt into the air and landed on top of the female. More screams filled the air. Sam couldn't take his eyes from the scene.

The boy. the _thing_. tossed the screaming girl side to side and started. eating her!

His eyes widened.

The thing tossed the woman to the side and ripped off her arm, savagely tearing into it. Why weren't the cops shooting him?

He turned around.

The cops were shooting. But at more of those things as they poured from the tree line, taking out each cop in turn, ripping into them, snarling and growling as they did.

He looked back to the girl, as his mind settled on the only thing it could. Something he thought only existed in movies and video games.

_Zombies._

He watched as the girl flailed on the ground, her limb snapping in impossible directions her head snapped all the way around. In one quick motion the black haired girl leapt to he feet, her eyes travels around before looking on his.

His feet became water on seeing her.

His knees shattered like glass when they fell to the concrete as he watched blood drip from the woman's now stub of an arm, thick, dead black liquid covered her face, her eyes glazed over and practically white.

"M-Mikaela?"

The answer was a dark, inhuman scratchy snarl.

**TBC...**

**Hope you liked it!**

**-Alisha **

**EA/N: how is it?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Gore and the F-bomb in this chapter... You have been warned.  
I don't own transformers or the creation of zombies. Once again thank you to Stoylady/Fadey for editing my chapters!**

Chapter 2

"I'm being chased by my girlfriend 'Bee! Help!"  
There was no mistaking the complete terror that wormed its way from Sam's throat as he found himself screaming into the cell phone's microphone.

"_Isn't that a good thing?" _'Bee asked, attempting to mask his worry with a bit of amusement.

"BUMBLEB-!"

The full word couldn't leave his throat as he tripped, landing face first to the ground, the phone sliding far from his reach.

"Oh no! No no no no no! This can't be happening!"

But the snarling behind him only proved him wrong. He had no time to grab his phone, kicking his terrified body up, Sam took off.

"OH MY GOD!"

He rounded an alley, still well aware of the inhuman sounds coming from his girlfriend who was catching up. He couldn't stop. If he did… he'd be zombie breakfast.

He had to do something. Anything! But what?

He scattered blindly off behind a random house, climbing over a fence and stopped, his hands on his knees as he forced air into his burning lungs.

Attempted to calm himself down, watching as the bloody, dead body of his girlfriend slid to a stop and growled, grabbing hold of the long metal fence. Her teeth chattering as she sniffed the air.

He needed to get out.

He looked around… searching for an exit, trying hard to keep his focus on looking for a way out instead of on the girl behind the fence. His face twisted into something terrifying when he realized.

He was trapped.

"Oh god." He breathed, backing up as far as he could; it was then when he finally noticed the background of the city behind it.

It was amazing how much he could block out when terrified. He whimpered at the sight. It looked like something from a disaster film, cars were parked sideways in the road, some had more than one dent in them and others had their front ends completely crushed inward.

But the one thing that caught his attention was the small boy who had forced his way out of crimped car.

Mikaela's head snapped around at the sound of the boy's body hitting the pavement from the final effort of escaping. She span around so fast Sam could have sworn he heard her neck snap.

Then he panicked.

As quickly as Mikaela had his attention, it was gone. He didn't know what to feel, overjoyed or horrified as his girlfriend's body jolted around and she sprang forwards.

Part of him would have whistled at the scene, if she wasn't covered in blood and currently shredding the boy apart.

He couldn't pull his eyes from the scene; his heart was racing a mile a minute. These were nothing like the zombies in the movies.

These were fast, savage and horrifying.

The way Mikaela ripped into his body with the only arm she had made his mind go numb. He felt everything slow.

The boys screams died down

His body stopped moving.

And then, he jumped up.

Both Mikaela and the boy swayed on the spot, black blood leaking all over the boy's tan shirt, dripping on the ground, remarkably the only sound he could hear was the wet plop, plop, plop of the drops that landed on the ground from his jaw, stomach, which was completely shredded and his legs.

It felt like hours that he stared at them. He felt like he could have a heart attack any second because he could feel his heart rate and it was faster than it should be.

Then they looked at him.

Just like that the spell was broken.

Both growled darkly, racing towards the fence while Sam scrambled backwards, tripping over his own feet as both zombies started to climb. He reached out, grabbing the first thing that he felt.

Pulling the object to his chest and standing, placing a hand on the ground to force his shaking body up, Sam looked over the object.

A lamp.

A broken, pathetic fucking lamp.

Sam wanted to cry.

He was dead. Goodbye Autobots. Goodbye Decepticons. He was deadmeat.

He held it in though, he faced deceptions! He faced and killed Megatron ! Of all bots! Thirty feet tall metal frickin' alien robots!

He could take on the zombies.

But could he take on his girlfriend?

He wanted to breakdown.

Mikaela… the girl he had spent the last two years with, the girl he never even said he loved to, even though he did.

He found himself frozen; his eyes impossibly wide as he reinforced his grip on the lamp, his palms began to sweat along with the rest of his body, he couldn't do this… he couldn't hurt her.

It wasn't her anymore.

A small part of his brain told him, Sam took a breath as they finally scaled the fence. He swore, if he would die this day, to come back as a mindless zombie, he would at least tell the girl of his dreams how he felt.

"I love you."

He whispered, lifting the lamp up in front of him.

"I love you! Mikaela! Oh god!"

Her once loving, brown eyes, now white and glazed over locked on his.

They both came at him.

Sam hardly knew what happened after that, everything happened so fast, one moment he was knocked onto his back by the tanned shirted boy, the next he was kicking out.

His foot went right through the boy's stomach.

Sam wanted to wanted to puke, he wanted to cry, he wanted to laugh at the irony of something like this being real, but most importantly he wanted his Mikaela back.

But that wasn't going to happen.

Kicking again, Sam succeeded in pushing the boy from him, long enough for him to battle to his feet, only to have Mikaela lunge at him, throwing his arms back, as hard as he could he slammed the lamp into her skull.

The light bulb shattered, the glass imprinted in her skull as she shrieked and Sam heard the footsteps behind him, coming for him.

Quickly bringing his elbow back, Sam jabbed it into the boy and span around, crashing the already bloody lamp into his skull.

_Thank god, Will decided to train me!_

He shook the thought as he slammed the lamp over and over into the boy's head until he hit the floor and went still.

Sam stumbled as his vision began to see double, he set his hands on the wall of a house, only to have himself tackle from behind. Yelling, his head slammed hard into the brick wall, adrenalin coursing through his veins as he spun, well aware that Mikaela was trying to scratch at him.

Somehow he managed to hold her arm's away but now he was watching as she snapped her jaw at him from atop his body.

He struggled, trying so hard to force her off him but he took a huge breath. "Ahhh!" He grunted as he managed to toss Mikaela's form as hard as he could, relived when the pressure of her body was removed.

Wincing, he touched the spot on his head where he hit the wall, feeling something warm and sticky come in contact with his fingers.

_Shit._

Standing once again, Sam let himself lose control, he left the fear, the anger, the sadness overwhelm him, he left the dark part of his mind take over as he rushed at his girlfriend, who was trying to stand. Without thinking, Sam brought the lamp up.

Over and over and over again he slammed it down until the metal began to slip from his fingers, smashing the lamp harder each time into her flesh.

Repeatedly, he didn't remember when he body fell limply to the ground.

Over and over. It was the last and only thought in his mind. Ignoring the black blood that covered his face, his hands, his shirt. His mind was on complete lockdown.

Only one thought running through it.

_Kill or be killed._

_Kill or be killed._

He fell to his knees, thrusting the lamp once more into her unrecognizable face, before he finally lost his grip.

Everything shattered.

He began to cry, he collapsed over the still body of his girlfriend, curling his arms around her back and lifting her up, setting her bridal style on his lap, he closed his eyes, ignoring the feel of her chunky blood on his face as he nuzzled her neck.

"Mikaela, Mikaela." He chanted her name like it would keep him safe. He rocked back and forth where he was, running a hand through her bloodied hair. "What have I done?"

"Sam?" His eyes snapped open as he stared down at Mikaela's corpse.

Had… had she said his name? No… the voice was male… The voice… metallic?

A car revved behind him before he heard the sounds of transforming. But he blocked them out, still rocking Mikaela in his arms, whispering her name.

"Sam!"

The voice was urgent now so Sam risked a glance up, his eyes stung with tears, his body shook badly. The familiar outline was warm to look at. "'Bee?"

"What… what…." Bee couldn't get the question out; he found himself staring into the open, dead eyes of the woman, Sam's girlfriend.

She stirred in his lap.

Sam almost leapt backwards with joy when she moved…

Only to scream when she snarled and tackled him.

"Sam!"

The body was lifted from him so fast; Sam looked up to see Bumblebee holding Mikaela with a look of disgust. Her entire face was crushed in and despite being an alien, the zombie continued to scratch at Bumblebee, snarling and growling.

Sam's eyes widened when her nails actually accomplished in racking ragged lines through the metal on his fingers.

"Bumblebee! Kill her! No… don't hurt her! SHE'S INFECTED!"

Bumblebee screamed, his yell ending in a burst of static as he flung Mikaela across the alleyway, her body slamming into a wall.

But still, she got up.

And so did the boy.

"WE HAVE TO GO!"

"But Mikaela..."

"She's dead! We have to go! Now!"

Sam couldn't believe he was leaving her… but they had to get away. Bumblebee looked reluctant before transforming and popped his door open, Sam rushed inside.

'Bee didn't move. Why wasn't he moving?

"We have to go! Go!"

"But-"

Mikaela jumped to the hood of the car, causing 'Bee to jolt. She was on the other side of the fence! How could she have climbed it so quickly?

Bumblebee hollered loudly when the zombie began slamming her bloody head into the windshield.

Sam was screaming like a little girl in the driver's seat, clutching at the wheel while pressing the gas, making Bumblebee lurch foreword.

"Go go go go!"

Bumblebee took off, his car form shuttering each time Mikaela slammed her head into the windshield, cracks began to form...

Bumblebee's steering wheel tugged left, hard as they began to do doughnuts.

Mikaela clutched the windshield, succeeding in ripping the windshield wipers from spot before getting thrown from the car like a rag doll.

"WHAT THE FRAG IS THAT! What's wrong with Mikaela! Sam?"

Sam took a breath and closed his eyes, he wiped a bit of his blood, mixed with the zombie blood from his face, his whole body shaking as he exhaled. His mind was running a mile a minute.

How could this happen? He thought zombies would never be real, only in movies... What did humans do to piss god off? Did he want to punish humans?

"Zombies."

* * *

_Mother Nature is a serial killer. No one's better, or more creative. Like all serial killers, she can't help but have the urge to get caught or what good would all those brilliant crimes do if no one takes the credit? So she leaves crumbs. Now the hard part, is seeing the crumbs, the clues there. Sometimes it's in your thoughts where the most brutal part of a virus is. Turns out to be the chink in its armour. And she loves disguising her weaknesses as strengths. She's a bitch._

_If you can fight, fight. Be prepared for anything. Our war has just begun..._

* * *

**EA/N. Special thanks to:**

**Fade. Codythedude. SweetieRainbow. 1Timberwolf and Autobot-Fangirl10303. For reviewing!**

**Quotes by Andrew Fassbach & Gerry Lane. I do not own them.**

**TBC...**

**Hope you liked it!**

**-ThemSoundWaves.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

'_Most people would rather face the light of a real enemy than the darkness of their imagined fears.' _

_- Max Brooks _

* * *

"Get the president into that plane now! Epps!"

"Yeah!" The dark skinned man said, coming over to his friend and superior.

"Get all the other ranking officials to the Autobots now! We can't risk them going down!"

Nodding, he turned away, saluting the Major and ran off to complete his orders, yelling at the top of his lungs. "Alright! Let's move it people! Onto the plane! Go! Go! Go!"

William Lennox was ushering the president alongside his many bodyguards into the shuttle, Skyfire. The sudden and so far uncontrolled outbreak of the flesh virus was trapped on his mind, the sounds of gun lighting up the air behind him as his men held back the attackers.

He hated putting them in the front line but he could not risk the President's life.

For now, the Autobots were the human's best bet of protection, although they did have their own war on their minds, they would help protect the humans… right? If not… they might as well drop their guns now and turn around with their hands up.

Will waited until the last of the soldiers, officers and high ranking government officials bordered the shuttle and was about to retreat into it himself, before a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Will's eyes widened as he took in Agent John Keller's form. Keller was breathing shakily, his body leaning against Will for support, a large black blood covered wound on his arm.

Still unable to breath, Will looked at his friend. When did this happen… and how? Grabbing his friend, the solider turned to look into the shuttle. "I need a medic!"

"No…." Keller's voice was hardly a breath as he shook his head, already knowing he was doomed as the hand covering the slash mark on his arm proved. He was shaking, fighting back something. "Will, I'm… I'm leaving you… responsible for the Autobots…."

Keller's voice was beginning to turn into a growl, his left eye turning to a glazed white, his head rolled on his neck before he shook his head, trying to snap out of it. "Keep… the president safe... I... I trust you"

With his order stated, Keller backed away from the shocked Will, pulling a gun from his pocket with shaky hands. "Now… go! Before something-" A snarl in his voice cut him off. "-happens!"

Knowing what was about to happen, Will nodded and saluted and stood to attention for Keller with a last respect. "It's been an honour sir."

Trembling, Keller nodded, placing the gun to his own head, his other eye began to whiten. "The honour was… mine. Now… go."

Lennox nodded and turned his back on the man. Unable to bare what he knew was about to happen. He quickly slipped his helmet off his head and held it to his chest, tilting his head down.

**Bang.**

The sound was louder than anything other shot he had ever heard: wether it was because he was so close, or not, Willam couldn't stop to think. He took a deep breath, daring to glancing over his shoulder at Keller's limp form.

Epps appeared at the door of the shuttle, holding onto the side. "Will! Let's go! Come on! We've got to get out of here! NOW!"

Taking another deep breath, Will forced his helmet back on his head, eyes still glued to Keller's form on the ground, he willed Epps to grab him and drag him into the shuttle because his legs would not move anymore. Where would they go from here? They were surrounded by zombies. Was there was a cure? There had to be... But where?

"Captain Lennox get your ass on this shuttle NOW!" Epps once called out though the sound of the starting engine.

Eyes narrowed, Lennox ground his teeth, turning and jumping into the shuttle. "Epps!" His voice was weak and a little higher pitched then it should be.

"Yes sir?!" His second asked.

"Where was the start of this? There must be a scientist that created this… what was his name? It sure as hell didn't just pop out of nowhere…."

Will trailed off, just now remembering his wife… his daughter… his little sweet Annabelle. Could he get to them? And get them both to the Autobots? Or were they both already…

The thought of them being… one of these monsters made his knees weak, he sat himself down next to Epps, the feel of Skyfire taking off below his feet.

"-one of them."

"What?" Will had been so stuck in his thoughts; he had blocked out Epps' words.

Sighing, Epps repeated.

"One scientist escaped the outbreak in Washington. We have no clue how it spread out so far, but the scientist was saying that Dr. Radar Johnson had been the one to originally create the virus, attempting to create a cure for cancer. But she was the sole survivor, managed to kill the scientist -or so she thought- before running like a mad woman out of the building."

Epps choked on a laugh, looking over to his friend, hoping he was smiling, however that was not the case. Will Lennox looked deeply worried, scrubbing a hand over his face.

The other man continued. "Unfortunately, her escaping put the rest of the compound at risk and the building was put complete in lockdown. That was, until they broke out."

"Something tells me these… things… are smarter than the movies show them."

Epps nodded in agreement, laying his head on his hand. "We need to speak to this scientist. Who was she exactly?"

"Dr. Shelby Romia. Sad story, really, she was scratched by Johnson. Managed to tell a cop about the virus and where before she was overcome by it."

So in other words, they had no leads, and no place to start.

The only hope had died.

Maybe he was getting too far ahead, he had a bigger problem to start with first: and that was getting the president to Diego Garcia, securing the island so none of the zombies could get into the island.

He thought over a plan as the shuttle took off, the island was their best bet of protection, with the Autobots and ocean surrounding it, if they eliminated any Zombies that may be on the island beforehand, it could be safe.

Now soldiers were stationed at the docking centre for any ships that may enter the island, checking for infections.

They could not bring everyone onto the island, mostly the families of higher ranked, they could build a small safe village and their own windmill or another way for electrical supply...

But again he was getting ahead of himself. He was Captain William Lennox, now secretary of defence... Wait... Was he? Whatever he was, he had a job to do, heaving himself up; forcing the un-dead from his mind, William took to marching across the shuttle. For filling his order in hopes of making John Keller proud.

* * *

Lights flickered; the once packed hallways now abandoned, flasks laid scattered across the tables and floors, sending their once treasured liquids dripping near silently to the ground. Puddles moved and moulded together, creating who knew what?

The toxicity alarm had long since burned out, the once bullet proof glass now shattered, random doors to random labs sealed shut to keep the occupants safe from whatever mistake had been created inside.

But the horror had already escaped.

The horrors: milling about the halls, some trapped in their own lab room, unable to leave because they no longer possessed the inelegance, nor the memory to enter a simple open code.

The horrors had long since given up: having already feasted upon the last remaining scientist, so now they remain dormant, walking around minding their own business, doing whatever zombies do without food to eat.

Past the bloodied halls, the last remaining light struggles to stay bright, the only one shining down the one hall where it had all began, a spot where light met its eternal enemy: darkness.

The point of no return, where the deadliest of the zombies manifest, the oldest victims. A place where they can cower from the light that blinds their already rotting eyes.

The virus already eating away at their skin faster than the zombies they created, and soon more of the horrors will wonder to find their place within the rooms where no lights will illuminate them, when their bodies begin to rot away, slowly, leaving only bones in its place.

Locked away in a room, the first of the horror roamed, seeming to search for something as it's white eyes darting around the darkness, eyes that were built to see past the dark, shaky, black blood infested hands run across a table, knocking various things to the floor, leaving behind a trail of clumpy, black fluids in its wake: it's one track mind seeming focused on something.

A clump of shredded skin peeled away from its host, the virus already working overtime to consume the skin: its addiction.

As the skin plummets to the ground and hits with a sickening splat, the black blood began to seep over the once spotless floor.

And then it moved.

A hidden command- Or a last hope, the pile of black goo moved as one, slowly, but carefully back to its still host, scattering up its damaged leg, only to bleed through the dried skin, retuning to its post.

The first horror seemed to wait until its blood had returned, before continuing on its search, stubbly, shaky legs drag across the floor to a new spot, a clump of red hair falling before its eyes, and still, The Horror paid no mind, looking strait though the interference to a specific drawer above its head.

Claw marks trail from its jaw line to the tip of its hairline, dried blood caked within its lines, the black moving blood already working overtime to consume the wound, ever so slowly, more skin disperses from its face.

No lips remain on the scientist face, black blood spreaders across the tattered lip line, seeming asleep, having fed to much already.

The zombie looked up at the cabinet, limping it's body closer as it reached up, only to rethink its motive and bring it slowly back down. It's eyes seemed to whiten more as the creatures teeth clatter together, a feline hiss escaping its torn throat. The first Horror snapped its head impossibly fast in the opposite direction, and began to make its slow decent across the room once more.

The First knew about the trapped soul, suffering within its mind, pushed so far back that it could not control it's body anymore, even if the captive gave it all it got.

A whine filled the silent air, the mindless creature turned its hand palm side up, looking over the ripped nails and shredded skin.

A mindless creature in control.

A mindless creature with a plan.

* * *

_I can see myself move, but I can't feel it, I watch as my body killed countless people, people I knew, people I found to become my friends._

_Like Shelby._

_I watched, as ... I killed one of my only friends, but it wasn't me, I wasn't in control, like watching a horror movie, you know how it plays out. One after another, each unfortunate victim dies because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and here I am, watching unable to do anything about it, unable to help those I killed._

_The only thing I can hope for is that this is a dream, an Hallucination from the injection. I can only hope,_

_Please wake up._

-_Dr. Radar Johnson_.

* * *

**TBC**

**Hope you liked it!**

**-Alisha **


End file.
